


Ghosts in the Closet

by Stonehill



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: AU, Adventure, F/M, Family, Friendship, Mystery, Older Characters, Platonic Romance, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-27
Updated: 2016-03-20
Packaged: 2018-05-23 12:53:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6117040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stonehill/pseuds/Stonehill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Following Mabel’s suggestion Pacifica seeks out Dipper Pines, a hermit studying for his doctorate in her native Gravity Falls, hoping that he might help her in getting rid of the ghost that haunts her family’s old mansion. To her surprise he agrees to help her, and on the way, as the two of them are joined by Mabel, they discover strange passages under the town, ghostly secrets, and a few things about themselves. And… why does Gravity Falls seem to have an obsession with the eye of providence?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> a slightly different take on the original series, with elder characters, but mostly the same mysteries. I mostly wrote it for my shipping needs, but I’m not entirely sure how obvious the romantic vibes will be in this thing… we’ll see.  
> Also posted on tumblr

Pacifica paced the front porch of the big house at 618 Gopher Road, considering her decision one more time.

It was a stupid idea through and through, and there was no way in hell it wasn’t going to end in disaster.

But it had been too many sleepless nights already and going back to her everyday life wasn’t an option until she got her answers - answers she wouldn’t be getting anywhere else.

But then, this was stupid and she was only digging her own grave. There was no such thing as ghosts after all, and what Dipper Pines did in his research sounded like madness to her. It could ruin her family’s good name and she-

“- live in small towns two-point-eight miles from he- oh. Hello?”

Pacifica turned to see a disheveled young man stepping out of the forest, a phone held up to his mouth as if he was dictating to it. 

She noticed the family resemblance immediately; thick brown hair, balanced facial structure, warm eyes. He’d said hello as if it were a question, suggesting a less forward personality than that of his sister’s. But then there were the leaves and twigs sticking out from folds in his clothing and that distracted way he glanced over his shoulder and she knew he resembled his sister in more ways than physical appearance.

“Are you Dipper Pines?”

He nodded and there was no grimace at the nickname; whatever his full name was, it couldn’t be pleasant. “That I am. And -” he faltered, his head cocked slightly to the side, expression contemplative. “You’re Pacifica, right?”

The question caught her off guard. Not the question in itself, of course; Mabel might have told him she was coming. But the way he said it, as if her surname didn’t matter.

Before she could reply rustling in the undergrowth behind Dipper and several small voices broke the momentary silence. “There he is!” “Get ‘I’m!”

Dipper whirled just as a small army of garden gnomes erupted from the undergrowth.

Pacifica stared at the small things and wondered vaguely if she’d finally lost her mind. Garden gnomes couldn’t be alive, after all! They were just-

“Shit!”

Dipper spun on his heel and sprinted towards the house. As he did so he threw something at her that reflected silver in the foggy sunlight. Pacifica caught it on instinct, and realising it was a key turned back to face the door. 

The lock clicked open just as Dipper tumbled into her back and they flew through the door, Pacifica landing awkwardly on the floor.

Pain shot through her wrists, but she and Dipper were already scrambling to close the door.

_SLAM!_

The light vanished and Pacifica clearly heard the sound of several small bodies slamming into the door.

“You alright?” Dipper asked, a little more composed than Pacifica felt. 

Outside she could hear the gnomes yelling "Thief!“ "Thief!” “Thief!”

“What - were - those - things?” She demanded to know.

_Thief, thief, thief!_

“And did you steal from them?!”

The accusation didn’t bother him in the slightest and Pacifica vaguely remembered Mabel telling her they had at least one con man in the family.

 "They’re Gnomes. Nasty little buggers. How are your hands?“

The change of topic took her by surprise and she looked down at the scrapes. "Uh… I might’ve hurt them on the floor?”

“Is that a question?” There was a smirk in his voice but when she looked up, annoyed, he’d turned away to rummage through a cupboard. “Because if it’s a question,” he continued and struck a match. “I’d suggest we cast some light on it first.”

Pacifica rolled her eyes. “Very poetic.”

“Why, thank you.” Dipper grinned and in the flickering flame from the match there was suddenly something sinister about his face.

He found a kerosene lamp and lit it. Light erupted, casting long shadows into the corners and revealing an old living room. The only furniture that looked as if it had been used recently were a table, covered in messy stacks of paper and different chairs, which had been pushed out or moved back in as he’d most likely deemed necessary. The rest, an old moth eaten couch and a TV stand with no television on it had been left untouched, as proven by the thick layer of dust, which covered them.

Pacifica couldn’t help but making a face at the distasteful-looking furniture. “When did you last buy new furniture? 1965?”

Dipper rolled his eyes. “The furniture came with the house and as long as it serves its purpose I don’t care how it looks. I’m not made of money.”

“You could at least have electricity installed. Kerosene isn’t exactly healthy to the environment, you know.”

“You sound like my sister,” Dipper retorted. “And I do have electricity installed. I just haven’t had time to replace the lightbulbs in this part of the house.”

He started towards the kitchen and she followed. It almost surprised her when he turned a switch on the wall and bright light revealed a sterile kitchen. The cupboards weren’t top notch or modern, but it was cleaner here than even in Pacifica’s home.

Dipper waved at a chair - “sit” - before turning on a coffee pot, and producing a first aid kit.

“Now, let’s have a look at these hands of yours,” he said, pulling a chair over, and sat down.

Peeved at the way he was taking control of the situation, she took hold of the first aid kit before he could get close to it. “I can take care of myself,” she snapped, and tried to open the box. The locking mechanism was stubborn and she winced as she fought it.

“I can see that,” Dipper replied drily.

When Pacifica looked up his face was passive, but she could’ve sworn his eyes were laughing. “Fine!” she snapped, and pushed the kit across the table at him.  
Dipper grinned and opened the box with ease. “Of course, this will cost you extra.”

“What?! I never heard you took money for what you did! And either way, I saved you from those gnomes; you would’ve never gotten through the door without the head start I provided.”

To her horror his smile only widened. “Calm down, princess. I was only joking.”  
Pacifica’s hackles rose at the nickname. “Don’t call me that!”

Dipper held his hands up in a placating gesture. “Sorry, sorry. No insult intended.”

And then his attention was on the first aid kit. Pacifica had never seen someone dedicate their entire concentration to something like dealing with a scrape the way Dipper Pines was now doing. She was sure that if she’d spoken he wouldn’t have heard her at all, and so she watched him work instead.

She knew from Mabel that he was twenty-two, but she’d never seen a guy her own age so at home in his own skin before. She wasn’t sure how she could tell from just watching him work, but it was as if he was so much older than her, as if he knew exactly who he was and was exactly where he wanted to be. Just like his sister. Although Mabel was so much louder, so much livelier, and so much more outside her body.

“There,“ he said, letting go of her hands.

Pacifica started at the word and slowly pulled her hands to her. It was strange; there’d been nothing extraordinary about the way he held her hand. He hadn’t been overly gentle and the calm confidence that seemed to describe Dipper’s overall personality had also been found in the way he’s held her hand still as he cleaned her mediocre wounds. It had been comfortable, probably because it’d been weeks since she’d last had proper contact with another human being.

“I don’t recommend covering them up,” he said, breaking her train of thought. “They’ll close up quickly and the extra oxygen will help them heal faster.”

“I know that,” Pacifica said, though the snap had gone out of her voice. “I’m not dumb, you know.”

“I never suggested you were.” Dipper threw the dirty tissues at the trash can and missed. He swore but rose to throw it out properly, and when he’d finished he turned to regard her. “So? Why were you pacing outside my door?”

* * *

Dipper honestly hadn’t expected any visitors. He never expected visitors, really. Not out here in the middle of nowhere.

Gravity Falls, Oregon, was a small sleepy town with plenty of mysteries - something he’d only ever thought existed in Stephen King novels - and he certainly hadn’t expected to get drawn into them the way that he had. He had only come here because he had needed somewhere quiet to work on his doctorate and his great uncle had vanished some years ago, leaving the Shack at 618 Gopher Road to the family.

And now here was a new mystery, sitting in his kitchen. Pacifica Northwest. Daughter of the ridiculously rich Northwest family, who basically controlled the entire valley and beyond, but hadn’t lived here the last ten years. And she was pretty - no, that was unfair; Pacifica was beautiful and intelligent. And friends with his sister, which meant there was no way she wasn’t a nice person. So, what was she doing in his house? Why was a young woman who must have had everything going for her, sitting there, looking suddenly uncomfortable?

When she didn’t immediately answer he sat down again, with a sigh. “First of all, tell me how you even came to know I was living here.”

That calmed her down a little. “Your sister’s my roommate at college,” she answered.

Dipper nodded. "Yeah.” Mabel had talked to him about her roommate on several occasions, though he’s never quite realised…

“What?” She was staring at him suspiciously.

Dipper shrugged. “I didn’t say anything.”

“No -” her eyes narrowed “- but you were thinking. Are you surprised I’m studying in the same department as her? Art has several uses other than just questioning the way of the world, you know, and it can be used in endless fields.”

And there was that defensive temper again, Dipper thought. Obviously someone had criticised her choice, and from her background he could guess who. Not that he was going to say anything; she might rip his head off.

“I didn’t suggest that,” he said. "Growing up with Mabel I know how useful the field can be and she told me you’re studying fashion and design. I have it from reliable sources that that’s a pretty respected field.” 

He took a chance and added a smile for effect and was rewarded with a smirk. "I didn’t peck you for someone who respected fashion. Especially with the way you’re dressed.”

“I’ll have you know dirt stains are the new black.”

They shared a grin.

“Anyway,“ Pacifica said, some of the nervousness returning. “Mabel said something about you being… some sort of ghost hunter.”

Again with the implied question mark.

She obviously wasn’t comfortable with being here, and now he understood why.  
“Not exactly,” Dipper said. “But you saw those gnomes out there, right?”

“The ones who accused you of stealing? Yes. They’re not easy to forget.”

“Riiiight,” he mumbled, his hand discreetly checking that the object in his pocket was still safe. This was a topic he really didn’t wish to broach. “So, those are some of the more harmless creatures you find around Gravity Falls, and I may have told my sister that I’ve been trying to catalogue them all while I’m here.”

“When you say ‘catalogue’ what does that entail?”

Dipper crossed his arms, and regarded her seriously. She’d said ‘ghost hunter’, hadn’t she? “If you’re looking for an exorcist you might wish to look somewhere else. I observe and note down.”

“And steal.”

“You keep bringing that up. Why is that such an issue?”

“Because as far as I can hear they’re still banging on your door, and no one is that stubborn about an accusation unless it’s true.”

“Your logic is flawed.”

“And you keep trying to avoid the issue here.”

Dipper smiled. “Are you here to investigate my alleged criminal record or are you here to seek my help?”

Her nose wrinkled. “I don’t need your help. But I’d like to pay you to exterminate a ghost.”

Now it was Dipper’s turn to be disgusted. “I don’t exterminate anything,” he said, leaning back, arms crossing. “That would indicate the complete destruction of something. In essence, murder. And I do not approve of that.”

“But he’s already dead!”

“Yet, still sentient.”

That shut her up fast. Obviously it was unlikely that a person who resided in the same room as Mabel - and still lived - did not respect the lives of others (even if they were technically dead). Now, however, she refused to look at him, and Dipper sighed. “Of course, there are other ways to force a ghost out of a dwelling - and keep it out,” he said, rising from his chair.

One of his journals was lying in the kitchen cupboard and now he went to get it. He placed the book on the table and sat back down. Flipping through it he found the notes he’d made on hauntings. “Though it depends on the specifics. As these things always do.”

“How many have you dealt with?” She sounded skeptical.

Dipper raised his eyes from the book. She looked sceptical too. “A few. There was one in the old church out west, you know, the one with the fossilised dinosaurs beneath it and -”

“Excuse me,  _what?_!”

Dipper snapped his journal closed as the coffee machine beeped - took it long enough, lazy machine. “Don’t worry about those. There’s no way they’re coming alive anymore. Coffee?”

He got out of his chair again before she could reply to serve two mugs. “Sugar? I don’t have any milk or cream.”

“I take it black.”

When he looked at her weirdly she smirked. “What? Didn’t you think design students had to deal with all nighters?”

Dipper shrugged. “I’ve had other things on my mind. Here you go.”

She took the cup from his hands with a 'thank you’ and Dipper sat down again, flipping the journal open on habit. He didn’t have that many notes on ghosts so he was definitely intrigued but she wasn’t exactly volunteering the information.

Finally he closed the book again. “Alright! Suppose I am interested. What are the particulars? When did it start? Where is the haunting taking place? When? Do you have an idea of what prompted it?”

He paused. He shouldn’t ask anymore questions; depending on her answers he’d be able to draw his own conclusions and take precautions accordingly.

It took a little while before she spoke, but when she did the insecurity had fallen away and pride was evident in her voice. “Before I start I’m going to assume you don’t know anything about my family. The Northwest family is an old line; as old as Gravity Falls itself. It values tradition, respect for the community and fine living and such values have kept it alive until now. Yet,” and now she did hesitate,“ for some reason my father decided to flee the town when I was eleven years old. I didn’t know about it at the time; I was sent to a boarding school and during my holidays we travelled. We had the money and I felt at home at the school so I never questioned it.

"Not until college, anyway. It took me a few years to actually figure things out and when I did?” She looked down at her hands in what was obviously shame.

“I guess I haven’t really told them the truth about where I’m spending my summer…”

Dipper shifted, a little uncomfortable with the amount of vulnerability she was showing. Other than Mabel he’d never really been good with girls and he had a bad feeling if he prompted her to move on he’d seem like a callous jerk.

If her parents had moved out of their precious home eleven years ago that meant it must’ve been around that time the hauntings had started. But why hadn’t this been noted down anywhere? Or had he simply not been paying enough attention?

“Anyway,” Pacfica said, finally breaking the silence. “When I came back here I didn’t exactly find a dust-covered empty house. Well, I did, in a sense but…”  
She trailed off again.

“Pacifica, you have to tell me or I can’t help you.”

Some of her usual fire came back and she rolled her eyes. “I know that. Geez, Dipper.”

And just that snobbish exclamation made him grin. The tension had been broken.

Pacifica sighed and sipped from her mug. “As far as I can tell my father sent a servant into the house every year. They never made it out. Everyone who’s entered the house has been turned to wood.”

* * *

Dipper nearly choked on his coffee.

Pacifica didn’t think he took the news very gracefully.

“They what?!”

“You heard me,” she said. She wasn’t going to repeat it. The memories still gave her nightmares. “The ghost turned them into wood.”

That got him back down to earth. Well, whatever critical place Dipper belonged to anyway. “How do you know?”

Pacifica shrugged, trying to keep the sudden chill from her bones. “He told me. The ghost.”

He’d swung that inhumanly big axe at her and she was amazed she’d managed to duck. Whatever the lumberjack wanted …

“Pacifica?”

A chill had settled in the kitchen and the concern in Dipper’s voice - something she so rarely heard when spoken to - did nothing to ward off the shadows. But she wasn’t going to let fear overcome her and so she shook her head.

“Sorry,” she said. “I guess the hauntings must have started some time after we moved out. I don’t know if it’s a coincidence - I’d like to believe it is, but let’s face it; my parents must’ve known if they’ve kept away for so long. And the one time I visited the mansion was in the afternoon of my arrival, so I don’t know if there is a pattern, if that was what you were looking for?”

Dipper rolled his shoulders, eyes cloudy, straying. “There’s a lot here we don’t know. We’ll have to start by filling the gaps.”

Pacifica gaped at him. “So… You’ll help me? Just like that?”

Dipper smirked. “It’s an interesting case. And I can’t say no to someone Mabel’s referred. She wouldn’t have mentioned it if she didn’t think it was necessary.”

Pacifica opened her mouth to say something. Closed. She was too baffled by his sudden acceptance of her request to know how to proceed. Finally, she said. “So, about payment…”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Dipper said hurriedly. “This isn’t my job; it’s a hobby. I’m helping you cause I want to - and because it’ll probably give me new information.”

She wanted to balk at the idea. If he didn’t let her pay him she’d owe him and she didn’t want to be in anyone’s debt.

“Do you pay Mabel when she does nice things for you?” Dipper asked, as if he’d read her thoughts.

Pacifica shook her head. “But Mabel’s my friend.”

“And my twin. But if you feel more comfortable making a deal let’s do it like this.” Smirking slightly he braced his arm against the table and leant closer to her. And for the first time since she’d met Dipper Pines, Pacifica couldn’t look away from him. “Never in any circumstance reference what may or may not have happened between me and the gnomes today. Never act on it or speak about it to anyone.”

Her mouth had gone dry. She opened it to say something and then closed it again. Clearing her throat, she said “and you’re sure that’s a good idea?”

Dipper blinked and smiled, and the effect he’d had on her vanished. “As sure as I’ll ever be.”

“Alright, then. It’s a deal!”

They shook hands.


	2. Chapter 2

****"Hey, Bro-bro!"

Mabel's cheery voice rang out too loudly on the speaker and Dipper hurried to turn down the volume while his sister continued on. 

"You'll never guess what happened! I got a new boyfriend! His name is Erik and he's an engineering student. Almost done with his BA and everything."

Dipper smiled and leant back in his chair. Talking to Mabel over the phone had become like entering a bubble of warmth and childhood memories, something he'd always love her for. "And does Erik know about that Spanish guy? Andy?"

"His name was Mermando and he was Mexican, not Spanish," she sniffed indignantly. "And we had to break it off."

"Too bad. I would've loved to see mom and dad's faces the day you brought home a guy called Mermando."

There'd been something fishy about the guy, Dipper had decided. But Mabel went through too many boyfriends for him to bring up every time he had an issue with one of them.

"Oh, come on! They would've loved him!" She gushed. "He played the guitar, Dipper! And that hair!"

"I'm telling you; there's something unnatural about a guy with such beautiful hair -" he threw out his hand for emphasis even though he was alone in the house. "Even I'm admitting to it."

"That is pretty bad," she agreed. "But Erik! Erik is wonderful. So smart - almost as smart as you. Don't snort in disgust, Dipper."

"Don't sound like mom, Mabel."

A laugh. "Anyway -" and she continued on for a while. They'd met at her job; Mabel had a part time gig as a fake fortune teller over the phone - inspired by stories of their great grandmother - and he'd called her out on it. He was tall, had black hair and the most beautiful baby blue eyes ("would you stop laughing, Dipper!").

And then, in the middle of a lecture on some aspect on his character she let out a gasp.

"But, Dipper! This isn't even why I'm calling! How could you not bring up Pacifica the moment you accepted my call?"

"Uh..." He'd had an inkling feeling that that was actually why she'd called but the sudden change in subject caught him off guard. "Well, you were rambling on about Erold -"

"Erik."

"-and I thought I shouldn't interrupt you," he continued. "Anyway, since you had pure intentions by referring her to me I saw no need to bring it up. After all, this isn't just you trying to make me fall for one of your friends like that fiasco with Candy, right?"

The hesitation and obviously fake laugh that followed answered his question. 

"Mabel..."

"Oh, come on, Dipper! Would I really break my promise like that? Anyway Paz is completely out of your league, anyway so-"

"You just said 'anyway' twice in one sentence. And yes you would."

"Fine. So I might've had a second agenda," she admitted. "But Pacifica really does need your help and she doesn't know anything about me playing match maker. There's something seriously messed up going on in that house. Not to mention the family."

"Messed up how?"

"I don't know the details, but I met her parents once and they're bad - even for rich people. They were astonished their daughter mingled with commoners and they critiqued every little thing about her. They had this little bell, Dipper! And every time she tried to defend herself they'd ring it and as if by magic she'd fall silent."

That did sound pretty messed up, Dipper agreed. As he listened to his sister rant about the other crimes the Northwests had committed as parents Dipper got out of his chair and left the living room.

Down the hall there was a secret door he'd found that led to a room filled with research material on Gravity Falls. It had obviously been his great uncle Stanford's, though Dipper still wasn't sure what his vanished family member had been trying to uncover.

In a cupboard by the overflowing desk there was a compartment, which held three hardback notebooks; one in red and two in blue. The red one had been his great uncle's and it suggested there were more, but Dipper had been unable to find them, so he'd continued his uncle's work and by now had compiled three more journals.

"- are you listening?"

"Yeah! But, Mabel, what about the house? Everything she told me about the hauntings, are they true? That people turn to wood?"

"I haven't seen it for myself," Mabel admitted. "She only told me because she didn't know where else to turn with this so I'm assuming things were pretty bad. It does sound incredible, but then so does some of the stuff you've told me."

"Fair enough. Well, I'll have a look and see if there's anything I can do," he said. He opened one of his journals on his notes on ghosts. So far he'd categorised seven ghosts into five levels. He thought that hopefully nothing out there could be worse. Though if he was honest with himself he'd never heard of a ghost with the ability to turn living beings into wood.

"Thank you, Dipper!"

"No problem," he replied, meaning it. No matter how much trouble his sister got him into there wasn't the thing he wouldn't do for her - except dating her friends. "I'm a little surprised at her, though," he admitted on an after thought. "She didn't even bat an eyelash when a minor army of gnomes chased me out of the forest."

A laugh. "That's Paz for ya. She might seem like a pretty lady but she's tough when it matters. But how did that go? With the gnomes? No forced marriages this time, I take it?"

It was Dipper's turn to laugh. "None at all." And he told her what had happened.

"That's great!" She said when he'd finished. "So you got everything you needed, then?"

Dipper grinned and pulled a scroll out of his pocket. Unrolling it on the desk he looked down at an image of a pyramid with an eye in the middle. Around it was a circle of symbols and a series of texts on how to summon this mysterious creature.

"I did indeed."

* * *

Pacifica stared into her reflection in the mirror of her cheap hotel room. There was absolutely nothing wrong with the way she looked; her make-up was perfect, her blonde hair straight and with no tangle in sight. Her clothes would've been approved of even by her mother and her dark eyes showed no trace of the insecurities she felt.

She didn't like being back in Gravity Falls. Not really.

Pacifica wasn't a stranger to attention. But it was usually based on her looks or her talents or her money. Not her name. She didn't know what to do when it was her name; it was as if she simply became a link in a chain. Insignificant in the greater picture.

But she couldn't starve and she couldn't bring herself to dress in any other way (it wasn't as if she had those kinds of clothes anyway) so she had no choice but to walk out the door and down to Greasy's Diner.

Gravity Falls was a strange place in Pacifica's opinion. It hadn't been hit too harshly by the economic crisis as far as she could tell, possibly due to all the strange tourist traps in the area. The city even had its own semi-famous Psychic, Gideon Gleeful. She hadn't paid much attention to him at first since she hadn't believed in such thing as psychic powers. Now, having met angry axe-swinging ghosts and gnomes, she thought she'd have to re-evaluate.

Other than its minor celebrities and supernatural oddities it also had a great number of strange people. Like Old Man McGucket, who seemed to be the local madman, or the lumberjack family, who now gave her the creeps.

Lazy Susan waved to her as she entered the diner. "Good evening, Ms Northwest!" She greeted loudly so that every head turned and whispers filled the air.

Oblivious to the effect she'd had on her customers Lazy Susan continued. "What will it be tonight? Today's special is the Jucy Lucy!" And she held up a sample burger with so much grease and melted cheese running down its sides Pacifica had to control herself not to run back out the door. It wouldn't look good, she reminded herself.

"Uh, do you have any vegetarian meals here?"

Lazy Susan looked taken aback. There was more buzzing, more whispers. And Pacifica knew it was the wrong thing to say.

"Never mind. I'll have the chilly."

The smile returned. "What an excellent choice, Ms Northwest! Coming right up!"

Pacifica nodded, forced a smile and hurried down the isle to find a place to sit. The last booth was the only empty one and she sat down with her back to the rest of the diner, trying to ignore the buzz.

She wasn't sure what she had expected of Gravity Falls. Probably not all this. She wished she'd told Mabel about her plans, then maybe her friend would've offered to come with her. But even if she'd offered Pacifica knew her pride wouldn't have allowed her to come.

When she'd stumbled into her hotel room three days ago, shocked and frightened, the first thing she'd done was call Mabel. She had offered to come, had insisted Pacifica not go through that alone and Pacifica while touched had insisted Mabel stay where she was. So Mabel had conjured up one of her miracles; her brother had been living in Gravity Falls for at least a year now and he wouldn't say no to helping her.

And Dipper Pines was interesting. Like his sister he wasn't afraid to argue with her, to point out her flaws, and like his sister there was something oddly warm and familial about him. As if being a little awkward, a little too brainy, and a little too bony was a good thing. She hadn't thought about it before but he looked a little like some giant had gripped him by the head and feet and pulled a little too much. The same could be said for Mabel but she had this willowy beauty. Plus a fashion sense, which Dipper Pines in his dirty jeans and tourist trap t-shirts and -

"Your food is getting cold."

\- and Pinetree cap definitely did not.

Wait... Pinetree cap? 

Pacifica blinked and gave a gasp at the realisation that he'd joined her at the table. 

"What are you doing here?"

He shrugged. "Are you going to eat that? Cause I'm starving and apart from their pancakes chilly is the only decent thing they sell here."

Pacifica pulled her dish to her and glowered at him. "Buy your own food."

A grin. Not as wide as his sister's, but sharper. "Yes, ma'am."

He left his cap behind to give his order to Lazy Susan and only came back when his food had been prepared. By the time he'd sat down Pacifica had finished half of her dish. It wasn't as good as she was used to but it wasn't as fat as she had feared either.

"I had a feeling I'd run into you here," he said.

"Why? Because little rich girls can't take care of themselves?"

"Whoa, whoa!" He said, holding up his hands. "I never said that! I just happen to know the only hotel in town is a dump. And I'm assuming you're not sleeping in the woods with the wolves."

"Your assumption is correct," she replied shortly and shovelled down another spoonful of food.

"Well, obviously," he said, and when she glanced up he was grinning again. "Or you wouldn't've been here."

Pacifica rolled her eyes. "So, what? You deduced all that just so you could come find me? Am I supposed to be flattered?"

"Definitely not. And you can't call that a deduction. That would've implied it was hard to figure out."

"Not my point."

"What was your point then?"

With a frustrated groan she put down her spoon and looked up to meet his gaze. "What do you want, Dipper?"

He had blue eyes. It somehow annoyed her. They weren't even blue like the sky or electric like ice. They were dark and stormy and she was suddenly reminded that Mabel said with pride that her brother was the smartest most observant person she would ever know. How much was actually going on behind that stupid fringe of his?

"I've decided I'm not going near that house," Dipper said, breaking her train of thought.

Pacifica started at the words but before she could begin to feel uncomfortable he continued. "Not before we have more information anyway. That ghost is dangerous and we need to know how to deal with him accordingly."

"Yeah? And how are you going to do that?"

Dipper grinned. "By figuring out his reasons for haunting that manor. Which means you're going to help me dig up dirt on your family."

* * *

Last winter Dipper had found a secret passage in the graveyard leading to a series of rooms filled with sealed documents. He hadn't been interested in much other than how they'd gotten there, however the evening after Pacifica's visit he had sat down to figure out how to deal with her problem and remembered a folder named The Northwest Cover-Up.

Whatever the reason behind the ghost's immense anger it must have been pretty terrible for it to have become so powerful. The fact that no one in the little town spoke ill of the Northwests suggested that either it was personal business - or that whatever had angered the ghost had been kept secret.

He wasn’t sure the folder would hold any clues as to what to do with the ghost, but any information they could find on the background on Pacifica’s family would help. And hopefully a few adventures might get Pacifica herself to open up about what she knew.

It was with these thoughts and intentions that Dipper knocked on her hotel room door the following day.

Pacifica opened the door almost immediately. “Just give me a second to lock up and then we can -“

“Don’t bother,” Dipper interrupted, pushing past her into the hotel room. “You need to get changed first.”

“What?!” she spluttered, closing the door a little too harshly. “Why?”

Dipper allowed himself time to look her over. Perfect hair, designer skirt, expensive shoes. He rolled his eyes as she glowered him. “Do you want those nice clothes to get muddy?” he demanded to know. “And how do you suspect you’ll fair running through rocky terrain in those heels?”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “What exactly do you have planned, Dipper?” she demanded in turn, obviously peeved.

Dipper just grinned at her. “A trek through a graveyard at dusk, underground passages to be explored - heck, you might even be lucky enough to get kidnapped by gnomes and forced to become their queen by marrying all five-hundred of them. Your debutante education should be used for something, don’t you think?”

“You’re insane!”

“It’s possible!” Dipper laughed. He threw a plastic bag on her unmade bed. “Though, in all seriousness. Here are some of Mabel’s clothing. She’s taller than you, but you seem to be the same size other than that so these should fit you. Change.”

Pacifica started spluttering more protests, but Dipper had already picked up the bag again, and was pushing her into the tiny bathroom. He thrust the bag into her hands and closed the door in her face.

“Wha-! _Dipper! Let me out!”_

“Not until you change!” he called back, repressing another laugh.

She swore rather brilliantly then, but Dipper could tell he had won. While she changed he turned around to survey her room, smile falling away.

It looked like one of those dirty, moth-eaten hotel rooms that were featured a lot on popular inaccurate TV crime shows, and for a moment he wanted to suggest she take one of the empty rooms in his uncle’s house. But then his eyes fell on the open laptop on the table and the suitcase with its content on display

She wasn’t as organized as she was trying to impress on people.

Dipper considered her laptop. If he’d had the time to go through it he might have seriously considered it. It was highly unlikely she didn’t know something about what was going on; it just wasn’t possible for an intelligent young woman to not figure out her family was acting strangely for eleven years. And she must have done some investigating before coming here. After all, Mabel’s semestre had ended weeks ago.

Instead of doing anything reckless, however, he sat down on the edge of her bed, pulled out his notebook and jotted down his thoughts while he waited. It was a habit he’d developed the more time he spent alone.

“Dipper, I swear to god, I’m going to feed you to the ghost if you manhandle me like that again,” Pacifica said, when she emerged from the bathroom a couple of minutes later - faster than he had expected, really.

“What do you think this is going to be?” he sighed, pocketing his notebook. “A picnic?”

Pacifica rolled her eyes in answer. She did a lot of that.

She’d pulled her blonde hair up in a ponytail, as it to add to the more practical style. She was wearing a pair of Mabel’s ripped jeans shorts, which had plenty of paint stains on them, a pink t-shirt, and a pair of very used, very dirty sneakers. Over her arm hung one of Mabel’s sweaters, which he had packed to be safe.

“Well,” Dipper said, smirking. “You almost look the part now.”

“What? Am I not dorky enough for you yet?”

“Almost.”

He stepped over, pulled the sweater out of her arms and tied it around her waist.

For some reason she allowed the fussing. “You’d make a great nanny,” she snarked.

Dipper grinned. “I think you’re supposed to say I act like a mother hen in this type of situation. That’s what Mabel does.”

A smile, at last. “You’re missing a lot of feathers if that were the case.”

She was pretty when she smiled, even if there was a hint of sarcasm there too. Her eyes were a dark brown, yet there was a definite sparkle there. Life. Almost as much expression as his sister. Almost. Her hair framed her face, no tangle out of place. High cheek bones, perfect complexion.

Pacifica narrowed her eyes at him “What? Aren’t you satisfied yet?”

Dipper mimicked her expression. “Almost.” And then he grinned. “I know just the way to make you look just the right amount of dorky.”

He turned on his heel and went to rummage through his backpack. A moment later he’d returned with a brown baseball cap with a star on it. Without much ceremony, and plenty of protests from Pacifica, he placed it on her head - hopefully ruining her perfect hair.

She glared out from under the shade.

“Are you done now?”

“You bet,” he said. He was feeling rather smug, actually.

“Good,” she said. “Now let’s go. It’s time we started that treasure hunting thing you wanted to do.”

She stalked to the door, grabbing her keys on the way. Dipper followed more slowly, one hand in his pocket, the other picking up his backpack. He almost felt like whistling “I don’t think you’ll be calling it a treasure for long.”

“Whatever.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading chapter 2, as well as for your comments and kudos on chapter 1!  
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter as well and I hope you got the feeling that something more sinister is going on here than just a spooky little ghost in a mansion.


End file.
